


Together

by Kelticmoon



Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21876541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelticmoon/pseuds/Kelticmoon
Summary: Optimus Primal has an emotional breakdown
Relationships: Cheetor/Optimus Primal (Transformers), Optimus Primal & Rhinox, Optimus Primal/Cheetor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during Season 2 between Transmutate and Agenda part 1

Cheetor knows something is up when he returns from night recon and sees someone raided the ship’s store of high grade energon. When he goes to Optimus’ quarters to tell him, he finds several empty containers of high grade scattered across the captain’s desk.

Optimus himself is sitting on the floor leaning against the full length window in his quarters surrounded by more empty containers, with one still in his hand. He can tell by the look on Optimus’ handsome face that he had been crying.

The sight broke Cheetor’s spark.

The past several weeks hadn’t been all that great.

Between Tigatron and Airazor being abducted by aliens, Rampage being awakened and made a Predacon, Dinobot’s death, and just recently the fiasco with Transmutate; it was clear that after several months of good fortune and success, they had finally hit a low in the war. The recent losses had taken a toll on everyone on the crew, but none as much as Optimus. Optimus is their captain, commander, and leader. Optimus has to shoulder his own feelings to stay strong for them. However, it's clear by what Cheetor is seeing that the captain’s strength is giving out.

Cheetor moves slowly to Optimus' side.

“Optimus?"

The older mech slurs as he speaks.

"My fault…all my fault…”

It's clear from his tone that he isn’t quite done crying yet.

Cheetor kneels down in front of Optimus and places a hand on the captain's large shoulder.

“Shhh… None of what’s happened lately is your fault, Optimus.”

Optimus refuses to look up at Cheetor as energon tears run down his tear soaked faceplates.

“…I keep letting everyone down with bad call after bad call…”

Cheetor gently takes the empty container of high grade from the captain's hand and sets it on the floor before snaking an arm under the bigger mech's shoulder. Using the better leverage, he helps Optimus to his feet.

“You have done no such thing.”

Optimus lets Cheetor help him up.

“…I’m a failure."

Cheetor wraps an arm around Optimus' torso to stablize him.

“Optimus listen to me. You’re being way too hard on yourself. We’re in a rough patch right now, that’s all. It’s no one’s fault. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. It sucks, but that’s life. That doesn’t mean we should give up.”

Optimus looks at Cheetor as he continues.

“You don’t have to carry this burden by yourself, Optimus. You aren’t alone in this fight. Even leaders need support sometimes. We’ll get through this, Big Bot. Together.”

At that moment, Optimus’ red optics meet Cheetor’s green ones and for a moment, it feels like time stands still.

As they stand and stare into each other’s optics, Cheetor feels his spark race in it casing as Optimus’ face drifts closer to his own. He’s longed to kiss the older mech for so long that he would give anything to continue.

However Cheetor doesn’t want it like this.

Optimus is drunk and isn’t thinking clearly. Kissing him now feels like Cheetor is taking advantage of him.

So at the last second, Cheetor turns away.

“Let’s get you to the berth so you can sleep off the high grade.”

Cheetor helps Optimus over to his berth. The older mech yawns as Cheetor helps him settle onto it.

As Cheetor helps him lay down, Optimus is struck with the feeling of déjà vu. He can’t quite place it, but he feels like this has happened before.

“This feels familiar..."

“It should.”

Cheetor settles him on the berth as he speaks.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve helped you to bed like this.”

Optimus looks confused.

“It isn’t?”

He's gotten drunk a few times since the start of this war, but he can’t recall a time when he was so drunk that Cheetor had to help him.

Cheetor looks at him.

“You don’t remember…”

Then he realizes.

“Of course you don’t. It was a long time ago.”

Optimus is even more confused now. He didn’t think he’d met Cheetor before this mission.

There was the time Optimus had stepped in when Cheetor was being harassed by his fellow cadets, but that was an isolated incident. They hadn’t really met until Optimus requested to have him on the Axalon mission at the behest of a friend. Or so he thought anyway.

As if he read the captain’s mind, Cheetor soothes him.

“Don’t worry about it now. Just get some rest.”

Optimus blacks out after that.

The next day he wakes up with a horrendous hangover from the high grade he consumed.

Through the haze of his hangover, he remembers Cheetor tending to him the whole time; never leaving his side for very long. The older mech’s processor is having trouble focusing. He keeps seeing flashes of someone else when he sees Cheetor next to him.

After what feels like an eternity of pain, Optimus finally drifts off into a deep sleep.

~

_Optimus is in his room in the house he’d grew up in, in the northern most section of Cybertropolis. He's much younger, only a lieutenant; not yet a lieutenant commander._

_The mech he had been in a relationship with for the past year or so had broken up with him. The reason they had stated was that they felt unworthy to be mates with someone of Optimus’ status and family name._

_This has been a common problem for Optimus, both romantically or friendship wise. Everyone either felt unworthy of him or was only friends with him because of what his status could do for them; never because they want to be friends with him as a bot._

_The only true friends who have stuck around are Rhinox and their mutual friend Hippa._

_The frustrations finally reach their braking point as Optimus finds himself slumped over at the desk in his room with high grade containers scattered around him._

_Suddenly, he feels a light touch on his arm._

_He looks up to see a young serving bot who worked for his family. He’d seen the youngster around tending to things and cleaning but had never really noticed him before._

_The bot was a gamma, no older than Optimus’ younger sister. His blue face framed his large tan optics and he had a yellow chassis with blue accents. All across his faceplates and chassis were black spots and there were black markings down his faceplates, from his optics to his mouth like permanent tear trails._

_Optimus didn’t even hear him enter the room._

_“Are you ok, Young Sir?"_

_Optimus winced at the address._

_“Don’t call me that! I hate it!”_

_Optimus notices the youngster flinch at the scolding._

_“I’m sorry, Yo-“_

_The youngster stops himself mid-sentence._

_Optimus sighs through his nose._

_It isn’t right for him to take his frustrations out on the serving bot. He hadn’t do anything wrong. He was just addressing him the way he had likely been told to._

_“No, don’t be. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have scolded you like that.”_

_An awkward silence filled the room before the bot gets the courage to ask._

_“Why don’t you like to be called that?”_

_Optimus glances at him and sighs._

_“It’s complicated.”_

_The young bot hesitates for a nano-clik before he sits down in the desk chair Optimus keeps next to his desk and looks at Optimus with his full attention._

_Optimus is a little taken aback by the gesture. After a minute, he sighs again. He needed someone to talk to and if this serving bot was willing to listen, Optimus wasn’t gonna push him away._

_“It’s just annoying having everyone put me on some pedestal to be worshipped. Yes, I’m descended from one of the greatest Autobots in the history of Cybertron. So what?! Why does that matter to so many? Why do so many feel like they aren’t good enough for me? Or worse, why do so many just want to be friends with me because of my status. I just want someone to be friends with me because of who I am, maybe more. Why is that so hard?!”_

_The serving bot is silent for a moment._

_“I don’t have any friends either.”_

_Optimus looks at him curiously._

_“How come?”_

_The bot looks down at the floor._

_“It’s complicated.”_

_Optimus immediately turns toward him and rests his head on his hand as he looks at the young bot with his full attention._

_He sees the bot look at him in a similar manner to the way Optimus is certain he had looked at him a moment ago. Then he sighs._

_“I’m a street bot without a name. Before that I had a family and a creator but they’ve all rejoined the Matrix now. They were civilian casualties in the last Great War.”_

_Optimus nodded, sadly._

_A lot of sparklings were left orphaned from the war. Most were put into orphanages but a lot of them ended up on the streets. Many of those sparklings went offline, and many more often turned to crime to survive. The young bot probably hadn’t had time to play or make friends since he was working._

_He start speaks again._

_“Before my creator went offline... something really bad happened to her... something that lead to my creation. Since the bot responsible was never caught, many who knew my creator blamed me for what happened. They also blame me for my family going offline.”_

_Optimus is horrified at this as he fills in the blanks._

_“You can’t blame a sparkling for what happens to its' creator before it’s born. How could anyone blame you for such a thing?”_

_The bot squirmed in his seat._

_“The bot who hurt my creator… he was... is... a Predacon. The bots who knew my creator think the reason our house was attacked was because he was trying to kill me and killed my family as well.”_

_Optimus doesn’t need to hear anymore._

_He knows half-breeds are ostracized by both factions. His creators had taught him better; that half-breeds were the bridge between factions and should be treated like everyone else, but Optimus knows they are the exception; not the norm._

_Optimus smiles at the serving bot. He really does feel lighter after talking to the young bot._

_“Thanks for talking to me.”_

_The serving bot smiles back._

_“Anytime."_

_Optimus goes to stand up, but finds it difficult to stand from the high grade he consumed._

_The serving bot somehow catches him and is able to steady him._

_“Ugh, I think I need some sleep…”_

_“I’ll help you to the bed.”_

_The bot helps Optimus over to his bed and helps him lay down on it._

_“Thanks.” Optimus said._

_“So what do you want me to call you?”_

_Optimus completely forgot what started their conversation in the first place._

_“Call me Optimus.”_

_As he falls asleep, he hears._

_“Ok… Optimus.”_

~

Optimus’ optics flicker online.

Sunlight pours through the window over his berth as he blinks his optics a few times. He sits up, looks around, and sees his quarters have been cleaned; all of the energon containers are gone. There are no signs of his drinking binge.

Optimus’ hand brushes something on his berth, making him look down.

There is Cheetor, sleeping with his head cradled in his arms on the edge of Optimus’ berth.

It's obvious he hadn’t left Optimus’ side.

Optimus smiles at Cheetor’s sleeping form before gasping at the realization.

He remembers how Cheetor used to look before the trans-warp cell explosion and thinks back to that serving bot.

Optimus remembers now.

After that night, the serving bot would still called Optimus “young sir” around Elsa, the head serving fembot in his house, but when they were alone in a room, he would call him by name. They would talk at night when everyone was asleep. They were becoming friends.

Then one day, he disappeared.

Optimus asked Elsa about him but she just told him to put it out of his mind. He had been so upset over it that Optimus’ parents had tried to find the young bot, but it was too late. No one knew how to find the young bot any more than he did.

Cheetor stirs and his optics flicker online. As he focuses on the Maximal captain, Optimus feels a smile spread across his face as he lay back on his berth.

“Hey you."

Cheetor lifts his head up.

“Hey. How do you feel?”

“A lot better. How long was I out?”

“For a little more than a day. Rattrap's been in charge. Figured you could use a day off.”

Then he looks at Cheetor.

“I remember you now.”

Cheetor looks surprised.

Apparently he had forgotten about that discussion (either that or assumed Optimus wouldn’t remember).

Optimus continues.

“You’re the serving bot that used to work in my parents’ household. The bot I’d gotten to be friends with.”

Cheetor smiles and sits on the edge of Optimus' berth.

“Yes I am.”

Optimus’ face turns into a worried look.

“What happened to you? You disappeared one day. Elsa wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

Cheetor looks down at his hands.

“I was fired."

Optimus gives him a perplexed look.

“Why?”

Cheetor hesitates a moment.

“Elsa found out about our friendship. It’s one of the cardinal rules of being a serving bot. We’re to be seen and not heard. If you are in a room with the bot you’re serving, the room should feel void of your presence. I was willingly breaking the rule by talking to you. So she fired me.”

Optimus frowns.

That explains why he wasn’t told.

“I’m sorry,” Optimus said, sincerely.

Cheetor shakes his head and smiles.

“Don’t be. Being fired was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Optimus raises his eyebrow.

“Why do you say that?”

“After I was fired, I realized I couldn’t really be your friend if our friendship had to be kept a secret. So I decided to sign up for Maximal training so that maybe we could meet again and be friends for real. I knew it would be hard, given my… um… background, but I was determined.”

Optimus is touched.

“You joined the Maximals so our friendship wouldn’t have to be a secret?”

No one had ever gone to such lengths to be friends with him. Optimus remembers how badly the other cadets were harassing Cheetor that one time. Considering Cheetor’s history, that must have been almost an everyday thing, possibly even worse than that. Even with all the harassment and hardship, he had still endured it.

“Why would you go to such lengths for me?”

“Because for the first time since my creator had died, I felt like more than a nobody. I was a person to you, not just a mistake or waste of space.”

Optimus pulls Cheetor into a tight hug. Cheetor tenses a little as he's pulled into a sudden embrace. Slowly, he relaxes as he returns it.

He's overwhelmed with so many emotions.

On the one hand, he's touched by the depth of Cheetor’s optimism and grateful that it was Optimus; the bot he wanted to be friends with, not Optimus; the descendant of Optimus Prime.

On the other hand, the fact that Cheetor mentions that he felt like he wasn’t a waste of space meant that at some point, someone made him believe that he was. Someone made him feel that he was a mistake and that made Optimus feel protective of Cheetor.

He could only think of one thing to say.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

No one has ever said such a thing to Cheetor. There were so many different meanings behind that small phrase, and all of them meant everything to Cheetor.

The cat bot tightens the embrace and buries his face into Optimus’ neck, not wanting the warm feeling inside him to go away.

After a few moments, the two pull away.

Cheetor’s optics meet Optimus’ and just like before, time freezes.

It seems like everything else disappeared, like the only thing that exists is each other.

How long the two look into each others’ optics, neither could tell.

Soon Cheetor feels the space between them get smaller until their lips meet softly. Cheetor feels every servo in his body relax as they kiss.

He knew a long time ago that his feelings for the Maximal captain went beyond friendship. He’d fallen in love with Optimus all those years ago while he was working as a serving bot for the older mech’s family. It was the reason he worked so hard to get here.

To be kissing him now, to know that Optimus was glad to have him here; there were no words to describe the feelings welling up inside of Cheetor.

The kiss wasn’t very long; only a few moments.

Cheetor blushes when they pull away

“I’d… better go...”

Cheetor goes to get up but Optimus stops him.

“You don’t have to,” Optimus says, still smiling from their kiss. “Stay.”

Cheetor gives Optimus a soft smile.

“As tempting as that is, I’m supposed to go on recon patrol. Silverbolt has been taking over for me so I could take care of you.”

Optimus doesn't miss a beat.

“Silverbolt can take over for you this time too. Take a break.”

Optimus rests his forehead against Cheetor's .

“That’s an order.”

Cheetor sighs as he admits defeat.

He really could use a rest. He hadn’t slept much while he was caring for Optimus and he was in need of a recharge.

Optimus moves over a little so Cheetor can squeeze in next to him on the berth.

Optimus wraps his arms around Cheetor and holds him close. Cheetor can’t remember the last time he’d felt this safe and warm.

He starts to purr as he snuggles deeper into Optimus’ arms.

He hears a chuckle from Optimus followed by said mech nuzzling his helmet.

As recharge claims him, he hears Optimus whisper.

“We’ll get through this. Together.”


End file.
